


a cry at the final breath that is drawn

by esthernn



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Action, Ambassador Sokka (Avatar), Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Firelord Zuko (Avatar), Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Post-Canon, Rebellion, Slow Burn, basically there’s a lot of fighting and sokka and zuko have feelings, zuko hates himself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:14:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25029100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esthernn/pseuds/esthernn
Summary: It’s a single sheet of rolled up paper, the outside reading “Zuko” in Sokka’s messy handwriting. After the amount of paperwork they’d had to fill out together, Zuko would recognize Sokka’s handwriting anywhere.Zuko unfurls the paper......Separated across a hostile rebellion, Zuko and Sokka need to find each other, fighting their ways through, and they need to do it fast.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 50
Kudos: 313





	1. Chapter 1 - Zuko

It’s dark when Zuko wakes up. Really dark. It’s dark and wet and he has no idea where he is.

Zuko sits up and presses his hand into the floor, feeling it sink. He’s sitting on some sort of earth, he thinks. As he feels around some more he can identify three walls made of a cold metal, and one constructed of metal bars instead of solid sheets. As his eyes adjust to the dark he sees some faint light seep in from between the bars. There’s about an inch space below the bars. Not enough for Zuko to make use of.

He’s in some sort of prison cell.

 _Fuck_.

And as Zuko crawls across the cell and feels along the bars for some sort of latch that might break him out, he remembers-- _Sokka_.

 _He has no idea where Sokka is_.

This is all Zuko’s fault. He shouldn’t have brought Sokka here.

“Hello?” he calls through the bars, the only answer being his own voice echoed back at him.

A shadow shifts outside his cell, though, so Zuko assumes his cell is guarded.

He tries to think. He remembers seeing Sokka take off into the woods as Zuko was being dragged away. He was being pursued, but Zuko trusts him to be okay. Sokka somehow always manages to be okay.

Sokka’s not imprisoned, at the very least. It’s a small comfort.

Nevertheless, Zuko can’t help but feel guilty. Sokka came because Zuko asked him to. Sokka’s now in very real danger because of Zuko. It’s on him. Everything that happens from this point on is to be blamed on him.

The shadow outside Zuko’s cell shifts again, and another shadow passes by. A bowl of what Zuko can only assume is some sort of watery broth is passed under the bars. It’s difficult to see, but it appears to be a musty beige color. It smells like rotting fish. He takes a sip.

It’s gross, but Zuko really is hungry. He can’t tell how long he’s been in the cell, the rebels taking him must have hit him hard enough to knock him out. He’s thirsty and feeling slightly sick but not so dehydrated as to be completely impaired, so it couldn’t have been more than a day or so.

Zuko takes a few more sips of the soup. It’s terrible, but he has to eat something. He knows that.

Once he finally finishes, _finally_ , he pushes the bowl back under the door and crawls into one of the corners opposite the bars. Zuko leans his head against the violently cold metal and takes deep breaths in an effort to keep calm.

He can get out if he just keeps calm.

Zuko spends an indeterminate amount of time curled up in the dark, trying to breathe. It might have been a few minutes, it might have been a few hours. He’s really just trying not to think.

He waits.

He tries not to think about being taken, or the impossible boredom of silence. They took him as the sky was reaching dark, their hands reaching around to cover Zuko’s face as they dragged him away. He can still feel every stone they scraped him over, every sharp word they shouted about justice and supremacy. With his eyes covered and struggling for breath, they sounded like his father. What he can’t say, though, is what they did that knocked Zuko out for as long as it did. He really doesn’t care to remember.

It’s so dark in the cell. His eyes could be covered and he’d see close to the same image. Zuko doesn’t dwell on that.

There was nothing Sokka could have done, not with the thousands of bodies suddenly grabbing Zuko’s own. Zuko should have been better prepared, though. There was a lot Zuko could have done.

It’s been a hostile rebellious zone, Zuko knew as much. He made a mistake expecting to be received with anything other than that same hostility. He made a mistake hoping for diplomacy. And really, he made a mistake forcing Sokka into the mess that he’d made.

Eventually his cue comes in the form of shadows in the dark. The shadow outside his doors disappears and another takes its place. The guards are switching. Once the footsteps fade and Zuko is confident that it’s time, he quietly creeps along the mud lining his cell and puts his hands on the bars. They’re cold to the touch, but as Zuko focuses they grow warm, then hot, then so hot that Zuko can push them open wide enough to fit a grown man through.

Zuko was gentle enough that the noise didn’t alert the guard, who Zuko quickly decided wasn’t particularly intelligent. His breath shaky but his confidence as solid as he can manage in the current circumstances, Zuko grabs the guard by the fabric of his sleeve and pulls him into the cell.

He rams his shoulder against one of the metal bars, _hard_ , as he pulls the man through, but he doesn’t have time to worry about it. He has to work fast.

Zuko wrenches the guard’s helmet off of his head, quickly realizing that it’s a thick metal. _Good_. He raises the helmet into the air, and quickly rams it back down into the guards head.

Just before he crumples onto the ground, the guard opens his mouth, possibly to say, “Hey, is that Firelord Zuko? Fancy seeing you here! We hate you!”

His breath fast and his limbs shaking from adrenaline, Zuko quickly pulls the guard’s armor off of his unconscious body and dresses himself in it. Zuko’s only wearing the red pants and tunic he’d had on under his own armor when he was captured, so it’s quick to pull more layers over, despite them being thoroughly drenched in the mud he’d been lying in.

He pulls on another layer of pants and various jackets and vests, and of course the helmet he’s bashed the guards head in with.

Zuko spends a few seconds just standing in his cell, hoping no other guard’s been alerted and trying to keep a level head. It reminds him just a little too much of Boiling Rock, but this time there’s no Sokka coming for him. He’s coming for Sokka.

Zuko glances at the limp body of the guard. Does he really believe in this rebellion? Does he really believe that Zuko is the enemy, that the Fire Nation deserves supremacy over other people? Does he truly believe in the rebels’ ideals, that the Fire Nation’s desire for control is more important than other peoples’ needs for autonomy?

Or is he just here, working a cruel and pointless job, because his father believes in it and his brother believes in it and his people believe in it?

Despite the guard’s actions clearly communicating a hatred for him, Zuko can’t help but hope that he’ll be okay. Zuko doesn’t want to be responsible for hurting him too badly.

Another deep breath and Zuko walks out, confidently masquerading as a rebellion guard who hates his own authority for the simple action of ending the war. Zuko can only hope that no one looks too hard at this one guard amongst many, and that they don’t recognize an infamous scar.

Despite getting a little lost in the endless dark hallways, Zuko eventually ducks out of the prison to see sunlight.

It’s dusk. It was dusk when Zuko had arrived here. It’s been at least a full day.

 _That’s not good_ , Zuko thinks. _Sokka could be anywhere_.

As the blue sky fades into the vibrant reds and oranges of the fire nation, a hawk that Zuko recognizes flies overhead. It perches onto Zuko’s shoulder for a moment, dropping a letter into his outstretched hand.

It’s a single sheet of rolled up paper, the outside reading “Zuko” in Sokka’s messy handwriting. After the amount of paperwork they’d had to fill out together, Zuko would recognize Sokka’s handwriting anywhere.

Zuko unfurls the paper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I hope everyone's staying safe!
> 
> I've been having a lot of fun writing more and more of Sokka and Zuko, and despite not planning for this idea, it's been really exciting to work on. I'm not really used to writing action so it's been fun to change it up!
> 
> I hope you enjoy it <3


	2. Chapter 2 - Sokka

_Zuko,_

_I know you have a tendency to worry. About everything. But please, for once, don’t. I’m okay._

Sokka feels so guilty writing this. ‘I’m okay?’ How self centered can he be? Zuko’s somewhere, being imprisoned or tortured or worse, and all Sokka can do is worry about his own safety.

What’s worse is that he knows Zuko’s probably focused on him when he should be focused on himself. He’s too good.

But he’s so far away now, and Sokka can’t be sure that he’ll find him.

_They took you westward from roughly the center of the rebellious zone. I went the opposite direction, and I’m near the border on the other side. There’s some trees and they make good enough cover for now. I’m sorry I left you. I’m so sorry, Zuko._

‘Sorry’ doesn’t mean shit.

_I’d try to get out and get reinforcements for you, but the border is tight. The rebels have shifts of people patrolling and there’s no way I could get out._

Sokka can still hear rebel soldiers stomping and shouting in the distance as he scratches his words onto the paper. There’s a lot of them and they’re organized.

_The way towards you is clearer, though. I’m coming for you. I’m gonna have a lot of trouble getting there, they spotted me a while back and It’ll be difficult to shift locations. I can do it, though. You know me, Sokka, the guy who’s good at rescuing people._

Sokka briefly wonders if that’s too much of a joke. But if Zuko really didn’t like Sokka’s humor, he would have made it known a long time ago. Sokka tries to be annoying as often as possible, Zukos had plenty opportunity to shut it down. 

_I’m coming, Zuko. Don’t worry about me, and don’t worry about yourself if you can afford not to. I’m coming._

_Sokka_

Sokka rolls up the letter and scrawls Zuko’s name on the outside. Hawkie can find him, Hawkie loves Zuko.

He sends the hawk out to go deliver the letter and takes a few deep breaths as he tries to plan. He’s the plan guy, he’s got this.

Sokka tries not to remember how hard it was to stage a prison break last time, and that he has no reinforcements now. For Zuko, it doesn’t matter. He’ll do whatever it takes.

So Sokka thinks. Zuko had given him some red robes to wear for the mission, so in that respect he’ll blend in alright. Most of the rebels know his face, though, and he doesn’t look enough like them to blend in. He’ll have to stay hidden or fight his way through. That’s where it’s tough. Sokka’s good with his sword, but he’s not a bender. He has no natural advantage over these rebel soldiers.

He doesn’t see them right now, though, so he tries to plot a path through the clearing. If he hops between the shadows he may stay hidden to a degree.

Sokka starts moving, rounding about the tree trunk he was hiding behind before quickly hopping in front of another, trying to stay in the shadows. He tries not to crunch leaves or twigs, really not to draw any attention to himself at all. With a deep breath he weaves between more trees, hoping to continue to avoid detection.

Within a few minutes, though, he hears a rebel guard shout, much closer to him than before. They saw him. Sokka breaks into a sprint, running through the forest as fast as he can.

He runs faster than he ever thought possible, the adrenaline clouding his mind. He can barely feel his feet hit the ground. Briefly he notes the setting sun and has the faint thought that nighttime brings darkness. If Sokka can survive through the sunset, he might be able to hide in the dark.

As he breaks the treeline, Sokka’s suddenly a lot more vulnerable. The rebels can see him.

In front of Sokka is an ordinary Fire Nation town sprawled next to the forest. It’s damaged, though, streets scorched black and shouts pouring out of windows. 

He quickly identifies a horde of bodies, all clothed in the same red he is. It might be some sort of riot, or maybe a strategy meeting, Sokka can’t be sure, but he beelines for it, ducking into the crowd.

The bodies weave through the town, yelling chants and hatred.

Staring at the ground, Sokka hopes no one looks hard enough to notice who he is. Being the least known person to help the avatar, being a nonbender who people disregard, may now help him and Zuko both survive.

Sokka shifts in so that he makes it towards the center of the crowd, moving along with everyone else so as not to stand out. People are pushing and shouting, the horde so chaotic as to be the perfect cover. Briefly, amongst maybe a thousand people, he glances up to see that the rebels who were chasing him have now stopped and have apparently lost track of him. _Good_.

After a few moments of shifting along with the screaming crowd, Sokka ducks away into a house that he’s confident is abandoned. An entire exterior wall is scorched and part of the maroon tiled roof is caving in. If the rebel soldiers hunting him down don’t kill him, this place just might.

The structural damage hasn't claimed the door, though, so Sokka locks it shut behind him. The walls are weak enough that anyone could break in and find him, anyway, but at least people can’t see in through the door frame to identify him.

Sokka curls into one of the corners of the house where the structure seems the most sound. He has only his sword and some diplomatic materials with him, paper and pen and ink tucked into the pockets of the simple red tunic that he and Zuko had both worn.

It’s dark now, and he really should sleep. It’ll be difficult to get to Zuko and Sokka will need to be energized. He lies down and closes his eyes.

Sokka lays quiet for a while, and a few times he almost does drift off to sleep. But as soon as he does, he remembers Zuko, and how worried he is.

Sokka has to rescue Zuko. He’s one of the kindest people Sokka knows, as strange as it is to think of after everything. He knows Sokka the best, too. He’s always there, understanding what needs to be said before Sokka even has to say it. So Sokka has to rescue him. After everything, he’s going to free Zuko.

He’s going to make sure he’s okay.

Sokka breathes deeply. He cares about Zuko, and he’ll rescue him. So right now he needs to go to sleep. He coaxes his mind into a sort of quiet, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge any worries. He’s too tired for it. He needs to sleep. Eventually he does, drifting off into a quiet but fitful slumber.

When he awakens the sky is still dark, and Sokka’s glad. He can’t waste an entire night. He feels guilty enough for even resting as much as he has.

He turns his head, looking around the room. As he does, Sokka spots Hawkie perched a few feet away. He’s again holding a letter, but it’s not the one Sokka sent to Zuko. He responded.

 _Zuko’s okay_?

Sokka gently takes the letter into his hands to read by the moonlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, the chapters are most likely all going to be fairly short, but for the sake of the story it made the most sense for me to split it up like this.
> 
> I hope you're enjoying!


	3. Chapter 3 - Zuko

_Sokka,_

_Don’t be sorry. Don’t you dare be sorry. I’m okay, and I’m much more worried that you got to safety._

This is Zuko’s responsibility, not Sokka’s.

_I was taken to some sort of holding cell, but I got out._

Zuko’s left shoulder is really starting to bother him, though. It’s ached more and more since he’d jammed it into the metal bar breaking out. If it slows him down or keeps him from fighting, he’s in trouble. Luckily he can still write with his right hand, but Zuko figures he should tell Sokka.

There’s nothing Sokka can do about it across a city of war, but if there’s ever someone Zuko wants to talk to when he’s in pain, it’s Sokka.

_I think I injured my shoulder, but I didn’t break skin and there doesn’t seem to be any bleeding so please don’t worry. I still have my swords and my bending. I’m about a kilometre off from the west border, and I don’t have the mission scroll anymore, but I remember that the entire rebellious zone is ten kilometres in diameter. I don't know how far east you are, but we’re across the city from each other._

Zuko’s arm is hurting a lot and he’s forced to pause writing. As to not damage his left shoulder further, he rips the bottom few inches off of his tunic with his good hand, holding the rest of the fabric across the ground with his knee, which proved a difficult feat. 

He grunts as he presses his forearm to his side and raps the fabric around his arm and circling neck, tying it into a loop. It acts as a sort of sling, holding his shoulder firmly in the socket. With Zuko’s shoulder held in place, he’s able to get back to writing.

_I’m heading east, towards you. Stay put if you can. Be safe._

_Zuko_

Zuko rolls up the paper and passes it to Sokka’s hawk, who’s been waiting patiently by Zuko’s feet. As he flies into the distance, Zuko readjusts his helmet to ensure that his face is covered. 

His eyes are still visible, however, and while they’re not usually an instantly recognizable feature, Zuko’s scar is unfortunately unique. He walks away from the prison at a brisk pace, trying to mimic the stance of the rebels he’s seen. They’re confident, standing like they can never be torn down.

Most of the ground is paved in large stones, but there are scorch marks marring many of them. The sky glows red even in the nighttime.

Despite the darkness, Zuko spots several skirmishes as he walks. Some leftover forces from the war are attempting to pacify the rebels, vigilantes fighting would-be martyrs. The Fire Nation no longer has an army, but well-intentioned people who had opposed Zuko’s father’s regime have since taken it upon themselves to maintain order.

No matter what Zuko does, neither they nor the rebels will subside. The war may be over in the rest of the world, but in this one small city it’s alive and well.

In the distance he sees flames erupt between several fighters. As one is engulfed in the flames he falls to the ground, and another man kneels over him, tenderly taking the fallen man’s helmet off to check the damage. Zuko can’t tell who’s side they’re on. 

Another soldier tackles the fire bender to the ground, pressing the bender’s hands to the ground above his head. Zuko feels his breath catch, but the bender doesn’t breathe fire like Azula once had. His breathing appears limited to his palms, which are pointed away from his opponents.

Sometimes Zuko forgets that not everyone’s like his sister. 

A woman runs past him, past the skirmish to where another rebel is battling a young woman clothed in Earth Kingdom green. They fight with rusting swords, each likely relics from a war they won’t let end. Zuko turns his head over his soldier to watch the woman running. She shoots fire at the rebel soldier, but skillfully leaves the woman in green unscathed.

After about an hour of passing battles of varying severity, Zuko thinks he’s reached a quieter stretch, where there’s not fighting but whispers of plans. It may be no better, but for him it’s safer.

He proves wrong, however, when encountering two passing rebel soldiers.

One pauses as he looks at Zuko. “I know that scar,” he growls. He’s tall and imposing and instantly draws his blade. The smaller man does the same.

Zuko sighs and pulls out a sword of his own with his good hand.

“Do you?” Zuko taunts.

With all his talent and skill, however, Zuko quickly proves outmatched. He’s fatigued and malnourished, not to mention severely under trained in fighting with just one blade. He can deflect direct hits well enough, but is too slow to avoid grazes or to land a hit of his own. The taller soldier is behind him and the smaller facing him, and Zuko can’t fend them both off.

He manages to push the tall man back, but as he does the smaller lunges for his heart, and without thinking Zuko throws his right arm out.

Fire shoots out of his hand, hitting the smaller man square in the face before his sword can touch Zuko.

_No._

_This has happened before._

Eyes wide, Zuko turns and runs before he can see what becomes of the man.

He aims for a patch of trees to the east, sprinting with his back to both soldiers. Almost there, he hears the footsteps of the taller soldier catching up to him.

 _He shouldn’t bend_.

_He can’t bend._

Backing against one of the wider tree trunks, Zuko holds his sword out in front of him. His left arm is still tied against his torso.

“Get back,” he shouts at the soldier, raspy.

The rebel smirks. He runs at Zuko, blade drawn, and the fighting resumes. Zuko knocks away the blade every time it comes too close, but doesn’t attack. Overhead, he sees a hawk flying towards him.

_No. Not now._

With Zuko distracted by the sky, the soldier thrusts the sword at his throat. Zuko takes his own blade and twists the rebel’s away from his body. While the soldier’s grip is weak, Zuko hits the base of the blade with his own until it falls to the floor. His opponent is disarmed.

Zuko takes it as an opportunity to run, breaking away further into the trees.

He doesn’t look, doesn’t think about the face of the man burned like he once had been.

Zuko pauses deeper into the woods. The hawk swoops by, dropping a letter into his palm. With shaky hands he opens it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been pretty bored, so I think I'll continue to get new chapters out every day or every other day. I'm also totally taking suggestions for anything to write next, so please let me know if you have ideas!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4 - Sokka

_Zuko,_

_I think you know I’m not just standing by and waiting for you. Me, master swordsman? Wait for you to rescue me? No way._

Plus he’s injured!

_Plus you’re injured! If any of us should sit and wait, it should be you, who can only use one arm. I don’t think you could rescue me even if I’d let you. I’m making my way further west, I’ve been walking a lot and I think I’m most of the way to the center of the city. Don’t try too hard to meet me there, I'm coming to you._

Really, Sokka knows that Zuko’s just as unlikely to stop and wait as he is. But that doesn’t change the fact that he should.

_And please, try not to get yourself killed. I’ve got about five friends including my sister and it would be awfully inconvenient to have to cut that down to four._

_Sokka_

Sokka rolls the paper up and lets Hawkie take it. He watches him fly off towards Zuko, disappearing into the stars. It’s only been a few days, but Sokka misses him. He doesn’t like to think of Zuko in danger.

He steps over some blood seeping in between the cobbled streets and heads towards another screaming mass of rebels. They had been fighting some of Zuko’s supporters, he thinks, judging by the bodies laying around them and the people running away in the distance. It seems that every good person in a kilometre radius is either dead or fleeing out of necessity. Sokka’s breath stops for a moment as he looks around.

There’s too much _bad_. People are _dead_. Even in saving the world Sokka had never seen so much death. 

For a moment he wishes that Katara were with him, so she could heal the fallen and make everything okay again, but he doesn’t want her in danger with him. Zuko’s bad enough.

There’s nothing Sokka can do.

So he joins the mob, choking down his outrage for the bodies on the ground and fear for himself. He shouts when they shout and ignores the tightness in his chest. This is how to survive.

When the man in the center of the mob shouts, so do the people around him. As they yell back, clothed in armor red and angry, Sokka can’t help but think of Zuko. These rebels are dangerous and harmful. They’ve hurt people. But in the moment, they’re also people, following a terrible leader. Zuko was here once. Zuko, one of the greatest, if not _the_ greatest person Sokka knows.

But as the shouting and chanting grows in volume and the benders in the crowd shoot fire at the sky, inconsiderate of who could get hurt, Sokka decides they’re not so much like Zuko. Zuko was in a shitty situation with shitty choices, but he still made the right one. He still chose the side of justice and ultimately the side of kindness, and has continued to do so even with virtually unlimited authority. These people haven’t.

No matter what potential for goodness they may have, they’re not using it.

Zuko is. Zuko’s a good person because he chose to be. So Sokka has to save him. If anyone deserves to make it out of here unscathed, it’s him.

Eventually Sokka breaks away, continuing west. It’s less violent after a while, most of the rebels having turned to shouting rather than fighting.

They lead chants against Zuko and insults of other nations, but at least no ones getting hurt. 

Sokka eventually encounters a lone soldier, and judges it to be safe to approach him.

“Do you know where the prison is?” Sokka asks. “The one where they’re keeping the captured enemies?” He doesn’t know exactly where Zuko is, heading towards his last known location is the most likely way to find him in such a large space.

The soldier turns his head. “You don’t know? It’s been here for a hundred years.”

“Umm…” Sokka takes a deep breath as he tries to think of a convincing lie. “I’m not from here. I just supported the cause and wanted to help.”

_Is that believable?_

The rebel soldier draws his sword.

_Clearly not._

Sokka sighs and draws his as well. “Okay then.”

The fighting starts fast, the rebel throwing his blade at Sokka. His stance is weak, he holds the grip wrong and his elbow’s locked. 

It’s quick work to disarm the man, pushing against the length of the blade flings it to the ground. He flees as Sokka traps the sword under his foot, but two more soldiers arrive in his place.

Sokka does his best to keep both opponents in front of him, where he can see them, battling both at once. 

These are both better swordsmen than the first had been. They fight quickly and with balance, Sokka can’t fight them in the same way. There’s no strategy tk how he fights, not with the pure desperation he’s relying on. He’s only parrying, cutting, and stabbing as best he can, trying to keep himself alive. 

One man doesn’t surrender until Sokka leaves a nasty cut along his upper arm, the other turns and runs as soon as he gets a bruise from the end of his own sword grip.

Still shaking with adrenaline, but with the exhaustion beginning to catch up with him, Sokka continues to trudge in the direction he’d been travelling, acutely aware of the new blood on his shoes.

About five kilometres in from the border he encounters a sort of watchtower. It’s tall, tall enough that Sokka will be able to identify Zuko’s approach from far away.

_This’ll work._

He walks up to the entrance, and simply telling the guard, “I was assigned here,” is enough to give him a free pass to stand in front of one of many open windows. So maybe the rebels aren’t so organized.

Sokka follows a winding staircase as high as it’ll go, ending up staring out a window next to two other guards doing the same. Their names are Taizim and Aiyoka, and they both complain of boredom. Sokka couldn’t be more excited to be so bored.

The view is dull, the reds of the sky and ground and people all blurring together. Taizim spends most of Sokka’s time in the tower napping and Aiyoka apathetically tries to make small talk.

After about an hour, but with the sky still dark, Hawkie arrives with another letter.

“Who’s it from?” asks Aiyoka, suddenly more awake. This seems to be the most interesting event to happen to her in awhile.

“My girlfriend,” Sokka responds.

“That’s so exciting!” she says, grinning. Sokka shyly smiles back.

He opens the letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is getting easier to write as i go, and it's getting more fun. Sokka and Zuko are both such interesting characters with such cool abilities!
> 
> Also, just because I'm curious, what time have you guys been reading this? Because I feel like I get the most notifications over night.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5 - Zuko

_Sokka,_

_I messed up. I messed up really badly._

Zuko’s hand shakes as he writes. He can’t think clearly, he just wants Sokka to know. He needs Sokka to understand.

_I was fighting someone. And he was getting too close and I got scared and_

He can’t write this. He can’t. After everything, no matter how many times he’s done it, Zuko can’t make himself feel okay about it. And Sokka might hate him. He doesn’t want Sokka to hate him.

_and I used my bending. I hit him right in the face, Sokka, he couldn’t fight back. It hit his eye._

Zuko’s scar ached for months after the agni kai. He wouldn’t let Iroh or anyone else touch it. Just Zuko touching his _own_ face hurt badly enough. Really, his own father shooting flames at him was bad enough. It was all bad enough without any more pain.

Even once the wound healed, once the excruciating burn in his eye had subsided, the pain was still there. It just took another form. With his face constantly in pain and vision partially gone in one eye, his anger also took another form.

Everything just hurt so much all the time.

_I don’t want to be like him, the Firelord. All I ever wanted was not to be like him. If he would keep being like he was, then I wouldn’t be like that. One of him was bad enough._

Zuko chokes back a sob. The pain never left.

_I thought I could win without hurting people. But no matter how hard I try, I can't stop. I hurt people anyway. I don’t know how to fight except like him. And I’ve seen what happens when you’re like him. I saw what it did to him, and I saw what it did to my sister. She was just a kid, Sokka, but it made her spend her entire life trying to hurt people anyway. And in the end it broke her._

He takes deep breaths, but he can’t think. He still can’t think. All he can see, over and over, is fire from his own hands scorching that man’s face.

_Everything hurts, Sokka. My shoulder hurts and my head hurts and my eye hurts. I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing here. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do about a rebellion. All I’ve seen is how my family handled it, and I can’t do what they did._

Zuko takes one more deep breath. He has one coherent thought, and it’s Sokka. He cares about Sokka.

_I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Sokka. I shouldn’t have brought you here. You’re in danger because of me. I’m almost to the center of the city. I’ll make sure you’re safe._

_This may be too much to ask, but please forgive me. Please. I’m so sorry._

_Zuko_

Zuko rolls up the letter and passes it to the hawk as he clenches his eyes shut. He’s done so much wrong, made so many mistakes.

He clutches his shoulder with his good hand as he struggles to his feet. Zuko must have damaged it further by fighting, because sharp pains are travelling the length of his arm and into his torso. It hurts so much.

He starts walking in what he thinks is the direction Sokka’s in.

The trees are thick and crowded and the ground beneath his feet sinks as he walks. Zuko thinks maybe the roots are all that’s keeping him from sinking all the way through the earth. 

Zuko doesn’t know what he can do if he encounters another rebel soldier. He probably can’t fight, and certainly not well. His left arm is completely unusable, but the pain may also limit his use of his right. And he can’t bend, he knows that much. That’s the one thing Zuko won’t let himself do.

He remembers his first agni kai. Sometimes at night, when he’s trying to sleep, he recalls over and over, in sharp, vivid color the moment right before he was hit. Over and over Zuko will watch his father’s face change, sharpen into a man he doesn’t recognize. His teeth lengthen into fangs and his fingers into claws, and from them he shoots fire. The moment always pauses just as the fire is appearing. Zuko feels the heat, and he feels the pain before it becomes physical.

It was the moment when his father began to throw fire that he had completely lost hope. Zuko lost hope in his father to love him and in his family to rescue him and in the world to be fair.

He was just so so scared. His father made him scared.

And Zuko did the same. He has the power to make people as scared as he was.

He saw the soldiers face as he firebended, however unintentionally. He was terrified.

Zuko stops walking. At his feet he sees tiny white flowers, nestled together into flat formations. His mother once loved these, he remembers. She used to take him, and Azula when she agreed to go, on walks around the palace grounds to pick flowers.

Him and Azula used to fight over who had the most, and they’d inevitably end up fighting on the ground, dirt on both their clothes. Sometimes when Azula felt bad afterwards she’d bring some of her flowers to Zuko as a peace offering. Whenever she did, Zuko left all of his flowers at her door in return. When Azula kept her flowers, Zuko brought his to his mother. 

His mother was so kind, even when the Fire Nation wasn’t. Sokka’s a lot like her, Zuko thinks.

Sokka has the same easy smile and he makes the same jokes. He gives the same hugs, warm and comforting, that feel like coming home.

In that moment, Zuko realizes he probably loves Sokka. He loves the way his smile is brighter than any darkness he can feel and the way he’ll keep arguing even when he knows he’s wrong. He loves how he never loses his confidence, even when he has no plan. He loves how Sokka would probably love these flowers.

Zuko feels his stomach sink. He can’t love Sokka. He can’t love Sokka and ever expect himself to deserve him. Because Sokka is unquestionably good and bright and beautiful, and Zuko has more flaws than anyone.

He bends down to pick the flowers, the petals are soft against his palm. 

Once the blossoms are safely in his pocket, Zuko keeps walking, continuing to stumble east. His shoulder hurts so much. But he can’t stop. He has to find Sokka.

Near wear the forest thins out and feeds into houses and streets, he sees Sokka’s hawk quietly glide down towards him.

Zuko takes a deep breath. He has a letter to read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're coming to the end! And this chapter also proves that I can't write anything atla without at least mentioning Azula. The next chapter is already written and will probably be posted tomorrow, and the final one either also tomorrow or the day after.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!


	6. Chapter 6 - Sokka

_Zuko,_

_You’re wrong. You’re so wrong._

Sokka’s almost angry while writing. Not at Zuko, never at Zuko. He’s angry on behalf of Zuko. How can he ever feel guilty for saving his own life? He’s one of the best people Sokka’s ever known, he can’t feel guilty for staying alive.

_You’re not your father and you did nothing wrong. Your father attacked an innocent kid, that’s unquestionably wrong. You defended yourself against someone actively trying to kill you. You have to know there’s a difference, Zuko._

He just wants him to feel better. Zuko doesn’t deserve to be so tortured over this.

_They were trying to hurt you because you ended the war and stopped the suffering of millions of innocent people. You did the right thing by ending the war and you did the right thing by defending yourself. You deserve not to feel guilty for doing the right thing._

Sokka hunches over his paper as he writes, guarding his letter from the rebels on either side of him. Forget any potential danger of the enemy reading it, this is just for him and Zuko.

_Zuko, I want to be here. I came because I wanted to help you and I wanted to be where you are. I’m in a watchtower now and I can see the western forest, which is where I think you are. We’re so close. I’m coming._

_We’re going to be okay._

_Sokka_

Sokka rolls up the letter and leans back once he’s confident that his words aren’t visible to Taizim or Aiyoka. He passes the letter to Hawkie, who takes off into the lightning sky.

The first glint of the sun is starting to appear on the horizon in the form of soft pinks and oranges. But as the fighting continues, flame and ash rise into the sky, tinting everything an ashy red. Sokka sighs. He misses the sky of the Southern Water tribe, especially at night. The stars were always clear and bright, but in the Fire Nation, especially here, they’re clouded.

“It’s so sweet that you’re writing to your girlfriend,” Aiyoka says. “She must be worried about you.”

“I’m more worried about her, to be honest,” Sokka smiles gently.

Taizim grunts as he wakes himself up from his nap. “What’s happening?” he slurs.

“Our new friend’s been writing to his girlfriend,” Aiyoka says.

“That’s nice,” Teizim mumbles sleepily. “What about?”

Aiyoka looks at Sokka expectantly. He says, “We couldn’t see each other for a while, but I’m gonna get to see her soon. We’re really excited.”

Teizim does a tired thumbs up without lifting his head. His hair is covering his eyes, but his smile is genuine. He’s leaning on the stone ledge of the window where he’d been napping. Despite not being fully conscious and hardly knowing Sokka, it seems that Teizim really is happy for him.

Sokka lightly laughs. “I should be leaving now. My orders only said to stay here through sunrise.”

“Oh, okay,” Aiyoka smiles. “Good luck with your girlfriend!”

Sokka smiles back as he waves goodbye. She may be fighting on the other side, but it’s nice to know someone cares, even if just out of politeness. She reminds Sokka of Katara, a little bit. It’s been so long since he’s seen her in person.

Sokka descends the stairs, hearing his footsteps tap against the stone steps. The guards pay him little mind as he passes.

As he exits the guard tower, however, he realizes just how many soldiers are gathered in the short space between the base of the tower and the trees that Zuko is due to emerge from any minute now. There are maybe about twenty of them and they’re all armed except for one woman, who seems to be a fire bender.

_Do I have to deal with this?_

“Do you guys think I could get through to the forest?” Sokka asks.

The firebender looks at him and smirks. “I know who you are. Not a chance.”

Sokka rolls his shoulders, straightens his back, and bares his sword. Fine then, he’ll fight.

He aims for the firebender first. He can dodge swords, but it’s a lot more difficult to dodge fire aimed directly at him. Sokka leaps over the first attack, a narrow but fast moving rope of fire thrown in his direction. He ducks over and under the woman’s attacks as he gets close enough to use his sword, dodging the fire narrowly enough to feel the heat but not enough to get burned.

Eventually Sokka’s close enough to cut across her collarbone, drawing blood. It’s a hit, but it’s still not enough to stop her. She shoots fire at his throat, but it’s a small enough attack that he can deflect it with the metal of his blade. 

He scratches her a few more times, but her fire is coming closer and closer to hitting him. Sokka takes a deep breath and aims for her chest. His blade doesn’t sink in deep enough to kill her quickly, but within a few seconds she’s lying limply on the floor.

As every other soldier descends on him, Sokka distantly hopes that someone helps the firebender. He doesn’t want to have killed her.

Sokka can hold his own in this fight, but he’s not invulnerable. While not deep enough to cause any lasting harm, there’s so many rebel soldiers that at least a few have managed to leave cuts all across Sokka’s body. 

As he nears fighting only the last few soldiers, the rest either disarmed and fleeing or passed out on the ground like the firebender, Sokka realizes his right shoe is slowly filling up with blood. Glancing down, he notices a gapingly wide cut in his ankle. He sighs, knowing that there isn’t much he can do until the immediate threat is dealt with.

Eventually the last fighters are vanquished and Sokka finally allows his ankle to give out as he collapses onto the ground. He’s covered in the same blood spread around the stone pavement around him. Bodies, too, are lying limply around him. Sokka knows that he can’t look to be in much better condition than they are.

As he looks up at the treeline, catching his breath, Sokka sees Zuko appear. He’s clearly tired and injured, just as his letters have suggested, but Sokka can’t help but admire him. Even hurt and defeated, Zuko still looks strong.

Hawkie drops a letter onto Sokka’s knees as he catches Zuko’s eye. He glances down to unfurl the paper. Delicate white flowers fall out of the scroll and into Sokka’s hand, and he realizes Zuko hasn’t written anything at all.

The flowers are beautiful.

Sokka glances up again to see more rebel soldiers running at Zuko, at least the same amount as he’d just fought. He feels his breath catch. He can’t hobble over in time to help, he doesn’t even know if he can stand. And he doesn’t know if Zuko will be able to fight back.

As Sokka feels his fear for Zuko sink into his stomach, he can’t help but think how beautiful he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is written already, so I'll edit and post it tomorrow morning. I'm not sure what I'll write next, but my friend and I were talking about, of all things, a Romeo and Juliet modern au so... that's an idea? I'm also still considering some other ideas but for now I'm just focusing on finishing this.
> 
> If anyone ever wants to talk my tumblr is @g3mston3, by the way.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


	7. Chapter 7 - Zuko

Zuko’s trying his best to fight. He knows he’s usually a good fighter, but he hasn’t usually been held captive for at least twenty-four hours, injured a shoulder, and been somewhat dehydrated all night.

At least the crushing exhaustion and self-hatred are nothing new.

He’s surrounded, backed up against a tree. He can’t breathe and he can’t think, blades and fire flying at him from every angle.

Zuko throws up his sword as he’s bombarded with more and more sharp blades and attacks from at least two firebenders. He’s too delirious to count. As far as silver linings, at least there are so many people attacking Zuko that they’re all in the way of one another. Waving his sword and hoping that all of his assailants will magically drop dead has so far been sufficient in keeping him alive, and it’s certainly preferable to bending.

They keep attacking him, though, and he can’t get them to stop. He can’t fight them all and the firebenders are far too close to them. As they close in he feels his chest tighten and his breath quicken.

“Please,” Zuko begs. “Please stop.”

There’s a wall of them and he can’t see Sokka anymore. Their swords are scraping at his arms and catching on the fabric of his tunic. He slices laterally in a desperate bid to keep the rebels away.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he croaks.

A stream of fire blows past Zuko’s ear. They’re pressing against his blade and he can’t fight back. So he tries to think, tries to remember what Sokka had said.

Zuko takes a deep breath and angles his head down at the soldier’s feet. He remembers Azula once being cornered like he is now. She was tied up and crying, looking so much younger than she usually seemed. For a second she was just Zuko’s little sister, desperate and breaking.

This is for Sokka, to get to him. And it’s for Zuko, too. He’s not going to die here.

Zuko takes a deep breath in and exhales fire, rotating his head to scorch the feet of the people attacking. It’s non-lethal, but it’ll keep them away. He wanted them away, and he had no choice.

Zuko’s attack had only directly hit the soldiers closest to him, but its effect was felt nonetheless. Those in the front lines who could run away did, the rest hobbled or crawled. Zuko takes a deep breath. He did what he had to do.

He sees Sokka for a split second, peeking through the shifting bodies of the rebel soldiers. He’s kneeling in the center of a ring of bodies, blood splattered everywhere. His hair is grimy and his face is contorted into an expression of desperate concern, Zuko assumes for him. Sokka’s trying to crawl, pulling himself forward between the fallen bodies of those who’d tried to kill him.

Zuko has to get to him. So he slips his sword away and instead reaches out towards the only remaining firebender. He grips the man’s wrist and burns. As he pulls away the man is already recoiling.

This works.

He starts walking towards Sokka, lightly touching the wrists of everyone still trying to fight him as he pushes past them. Once they feel Zuko bending, their skin burning beneath his fingers, they run. He lets them. Only the ones physically blocking him from Sokka get burned. He only touches the wrists of those who still try to fight him, who still want him dead.

Sokka’s still crawling towards him, but he’s too far away to be in danger. His ankle is trailing blood but he doesn’t seem to care.

Zuko continues pressing forward, lightly touching the wrists of the soldiers as he passes. He’s calm. He’s almost to Sokka.

The sky is burning, the oranges and reds intensifying into fire to rival Zuko’s. There’s only one woman left still waving her sword as she approaches. Zuko reaches out, catching her wrist as the blade twists towards his throat. Her hand lies limply over his fist as her skin burns. She falls away with the rest of the soldiers. Zuko keeps walking. He’s almost there.

Sokka.

Zuko’s so close to him, Sokka’s struggling to his feet. Zuko wants to tell him to stop, to not put pressure on his ankle, but the words catch in his throat. He can’t bring himself to speak as he watches Sokka’s hair brush over his forehead.

There’s no one in sight, all of the soldiers in the area currently lying on the ground. This must have been a town square before it was appropriated for battle. The stonework extends in every direction as the buildings in the distance waver in the sunrise.

Sokka’s on his feet now, stumbling towards Zuko. He’s shiny in the newly blue sky, like he was born from the clouds. How could Zuko not love him?

Sokka falls into Zuko, his ankle weakening. And suddenly he’s kissing him, and Zuko doesn’t know what to do but to kiss back. He feels like magic, like he’s floating.

Eventually he breaks the kiss and leans his forehead against Sokka’s. They’re arms are wrapped around each other, Zuko’s right arm clutching Sokka’s shoulder as he pulls their bodies closer. Their breath joins in the air between them as Zuko feels Sokka’s heart beat. They’re alive.

“Are you okay?” he whispers, eyes closed.

Zuko feels Sokka breath calmly. “I’m okay. Ready to go?”

Zuko pulls his head back and nods, shyly grinning. He pulls Sokka’s left arms around his shoulders and wraps his good arm around his waist. Sokka lifts his foot off the ground so that his weight is on only his left foot and Zuko.

Together, they walk out of the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's done! I really hope you guys liked it! It was really fun to work on and it definitely brought me out of my comfort zone.
> 
> If anyone's wondering, I still have a few ideas for zukka fics in the future. What I was considering was a zuko joins the gaang earlier au with artist!sokka, but I also kinda want to try to write a soulmate au, because I love them and I think it would be really fun to try. I was also considering something from Azula's perspective or maybe Katara's? If anyone's interested in any of this please let me know!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! <3


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